Bloody Englishman
by Cupcakesandpandas
Summary: What happens when a Briton and an overly eager Chinese man get together for a drink? Anything and everything if they happen to have the right amount of beer. A nice little bit of smut to start this account off! UwU
1. Chapter 1

_Bloody Englishman_

**Chapter 1.**

The smell of beer permeated the living room, tainted the air with its bitter smell.

Green bottles littered the floor and the table where the two men had spent the past few hours, initially chatting away amiably and having delightful cups of tea, then… choking their sorrow in Tsingtao beer.

The young men in question sat face to face; Arthur Kirkland, dishevelled blond hair and happily drunk gaze in his emerald eyes, leaned over the round, glass-topped tea table as his chest heaved irregularly.

Across from him sat a furious Yao Wang, who beat the alcoholic silly and whipped his long, red silk sleeves at the Briton's neck, all the while cussing and complaining about the stained carpet on the floor: "Bloody Englishman, stop puking on ancient Chinese carpet!"

He was fuming (and admittedly quite drunk himself), this was definitely the _last_ time he was letting the man-.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Arthur, who appeared to have momentarily regained control of himself…

"Whaddaya want?! I puke wherever I want, don't tell me wha—ugghhh I don't feel very well…"

Never mind, this was going to be a _long_ night. But at least the man had stopped gagging.

"Wait what—Hey Briton, WHATTHEDUMPLINGS ARE YOU DOING?"

Apparently, anything and everything was trying to prove him wrong tonight.

Arthur, soon after taking a couple of steadying breaths, opened his droopy eyelids halfway and squinted confusedly at his friend. "Man, what was I going to do? Umm hey… Enough with that stuff, you're blushing like crazy!"

He hastily clutched the other man's unfinished bottle and took yet another inebriating sip, which made a mischievous smirk stretch across his lips as he leaned forward, closer to Yao's face. "Heh, y'know, you're kinda cute.."

The Chinese man blushed and stared intensely into his eyes, fluttering those long, obsidian eyelashes… "Arthur, what are you doing…? You seem so different… And—"

And he hadn't even a chance to finish his words, since the man immediately craned his neck in his direction and took his lips forcefully in a sloppy kiss. Their mouths clashed, then melded softly as both tried to dominate, even if that meant resorting to dirty tricks…

_You're sure as hell going to be mine tonight, Arthur_,Yao thought as his tongue slipped in between them and thrashed around, searching for the other man's.

Arthur's expression suddenly became devilish, greedy like that of a pirate who's found the treasure he's desired for so long. He couldn't help but tease his overeager friend with a flash of his encouraging smile and a pant of hot, humid breath he knew the Chinese wouldn't be able to resist…

"Are you really sure you want to mess around with me like _that_..?", Yao whispered as he brushed their lips together enticingly, giving feather light touches to the burning skin. He wanted to send that damn Englishman over the edge with everything he had.

Those bushy eyebrows twitched and arched at the arousing murmurs.

" You bloody bet."

Upon making the curt statement, Arthur's lips left the Chinese's mouth to trail down his jaw, his throat, that supple, pearly skin gaining red marks bit by bit.

"Don't worry, Yao, what happens here will remain between the two of us.."

It hazily occurred to Arthur that they would've been _plenty_ more comfortable on the couch, which, fortunately for the drunk, was right beside the tea table; he impulsively stood, grabbed the other man's shoulders and pinned him down onto the cushions beneath himself.

The impact with the sofa had been anything but pleasant, and Arthur's added weight was not to be overlooked. Nevertheless, Yao recovered quickly, running his hands down the Briton's sides and pinching his waist while he threatened him.

"Oh, you'd better make sure that's true, my _friend_. You know how easily certain rumours can spread…"

His "friend" was pushing his luck: as a matter of fact, Arthur knew him far too well to take those tantalizing intimidations seriously. Even in the stupefied state he found himself in, the man could still tell that Yao was simply trying to provoke him.

"Really? Well, I can't wait to see how you will punish me…", he murmured as he shifted his knee between the Chinese's legs and teased the erection that was swelling up under his pants.

_Ah, holy shit, Arthur…_

Yao felt the blood that made his brain function properly make its way to his groin in a sudden rush; his eyes glazed over, now under the full effect of lust. Sweat started rolling down the nape of his neck, beading his brow, swathing his skin in hot, salty, little droplets.

No turning back now.

He tugged the Briton's collar, gluing their lips together once again in a fiery contact… He would have pressed on but, with Arthur's fingertips grazing his neck, he couldn't help but moan and reluctantly separate.

"No punishment involved, you just shouldn't get into trouble in the first place…"

The Englishman raised a bushy eyebrow scornfully.

"I certainly won't be the one getting a castigation, love…", he said as his hands clawed feverishly at the few buttons that kept their skin apart; he wouldn't be able to hold back much long—

_No, not there..! _

His head snapped backwards just as soon as Yao touched his crotch, palmed him and gave him a brief squeeze that nearly made him squeal. There was absolutely no way he was letting the sneaky bastard get away with _that_.

Shirts were wrenched off of both, buttons tearing from their threads and falling to the floor with short clinks, frantic hands undid zippers, pulled briefs and trousers down to join the pile of clothes messily strewn in the living room.

"My turn now, Yao." His lips curled up into a devilish grin, Arthur shifted on the cushions and leaned in to trace that small, adorably puckered navel with his tongue.

Staring up at Yao's face, he softly muttered against his stomach. "I'd better hear some of those charming moans soon, or I won't go easy on you, dear…"

The closeness of their bodies was _orgasmic_; Yao couldn't have held his voice back even if he'd tried.

"Arthur, I'll even scream your name to the world if you promise to keep touching me like that… Nhh.."

"Say it then, I want to hear it.." The alcohol had seeped deeply into the man's brain and spoke in his stead now. He moved down further, grabbing the man's legs from behind the knees and spreading them to an uncomfortable angle, placing his mouth on his inner thigh, moving closer and closer to where the Chinese wanted him most, but never really giving him the satisfaction. _Beg for me, love…_

Panting and sighing while he watched Arthur nip at his crotch, he almost couldn't take it anymore, every flick of the man's tongue brought him closer to the edge. He took the Briton's hair between his fingertips, coaxing him with pleading eyes and an expression that just screamed _Fuck me, just take me and fuck me into the couch_.

"Arthur... Oh God, please…"

There had always been a certain satisfaction in acting like a teasing bastard, and tonight definitely wasn't an exception. But the thrill that shook Arthur's spine almost made him tremble, he wouldn't wait a second longer. He was a gentleman at heart, so he always satisfied his lovers' desires.

"Yes, darling, tell me how much you want me inside of you…"

His voice was rough, his eyes filled with lust. Those lips that just moments ago had been maddeningly needling the Chinese, now closed around his hard and throbbing member and _bollocks, is this man trying to fuck my throat raw?_

His hips jolted in an upward motion just as Arthur's lips closed around his erection, relieving him slightly of the need that had swollen in his groin. Yao tugged the man's hair harder, scratched his scalp with his fingernails.

"Deeper, all the way in… Nngh, Arthur, oh good Lord, that's ah-amazing…"

He relentlessly pulled Arthur's head back and forth, not minding at all the fact that he'd been close to choking him with precum. A short thought flashed through his mind: he wasn't going to end this night with a _blowjob, _no matter how marvelously experienced the man was. Thankfully, the Briton seemed to be of the same opinion as he retracted and spoke with a livid air…

"Alright, love, I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't remember who you are."

Bringing his hand to his mouth, he sucked one finger, followed by another and ultimately a third one.

The fingers entered him simultaneously, the fierceness of it all stinging his inner walls and stretching him open. He knew this was going to hurt like hell, but he couldn't stop to go look for some lube. And…

"You like it rough anyway, don't you, whore?"

Loud cries filled the room. Yao was exposed, vulnerable and shamefully shrieking the man's name while he squirmed beneath him, unable to control his reactions.

"ARTHUR, no please! That hurts—unh.."

He panted harder every time the Englishman's fingers swirled at his insides, almost touching his prostate. All he could do was twist around, awaiting Arthur's punishment.

Eyes glazed over and saliva coming down his chin, all of the pride he'd displayed earlier dissolved into thin air.

"E-enter me… Take me a-as hard as you want.", he groaned out, trying to tempt the man.

Arthur was torturing his lower lip, biting it to hold the moan that escaped his mouth; all of this aroused him far too much. A sudden wave of boundless anger rocked his entire body. He was born a conqueror, and he was going to claim this territory his… At least for tonight.

"Whatever I want to do with your body, I'll fucking do."

The look on his face could almost pierce the man in front of him. A lustful little grin had appeared on the Asian's face, and Arthur was going to make him regret it.

He forcefully removed his fingers from Yao's entrance, replacing them with his hard and painful member, grunting at the tightness and the warmth that surrounded him.

Proud of how easily the other drunk man had been swayed to his desires, Yao hadn't been able to hide his satisfaction… Unfortunately, that feeling didn't last very long.

He yelled, unable to control the pain that came with the unexpected penetration.

_You actually entered me _dry_?_

Yao's hands went to touch himself reflexively, one grabbing hard at the base, the other palming the tip where precum was overflowing… His eyes shut in concentration, only to be rocked open with every single one of Arthur's thrusts, showing the tears that had collected beneath his long, fluttering eyelashes and fell over his cheeks. He got a kick out of teasing the man with his eyes; he knew he'd give in to whatever he asked for, especially if it was the dominance he craved.

"I… Go h—har.. harder…"

The shocks of pleasure he felt in his groin at every thrust were driving him insane, he couldn't get enough of it, so he kept pushing and pulling out again and again, until the man's hole became wide and slick with precum. When he heard Yao speak, it was in such a hoarse and strained tone, he couldn't believe the man still managed to maintain such a teasing look, and his hands were still able to fondle himself like that… He had to work harder. And _harder_ was just what the other man had been asking for, wasn't it?

"Little bitch.."

He quickly pulled out, ignoring the Chinese's whines at the sudden emptiness, then took the man by the hips and rolled him with his stomach pressing on the couch and his ass lifted up, the view of his wide open entrance right in front of his face. Arthur grabbed his cheeks and spread them further apart, finally entering him with his throbbing cock.

A deep, violent thrust took Yao's breath away. The wonderful sensation of Arthur's member filling him to the brim had vanished briefly seconds ago, leaving him shell-shocked and wondering what exactly the other man had had in mind; it hadn't taken very long before he'd known. His own erection rubbed against the couch, leaving spots of white precum and sweat everywhere. It didn't matter all that much, since Arthur wouldn't remember what it was in the morning anyway.

He bit back some moans and groans, which just made his sighs more desperate than he thought he could muster up. Grabbing at the cushions, his mind went blank with pleasure; he couldn't think straight at all, not even enough to touch himself, he could only feel the pressure build up in his groin, panting when Arthur lunged into him. His face went redder, the bridge of his nose pinched up as he held the release, trying to compete with the other man in endurance.

He kept moving inside the other man, who was clearly at his limit. In this blissful sensation, he could barely hear his own foggy thoughts, but he could well see the way the sweat came down Yao's lovely, white, smooth back fringed with ebony hair, and his whole body seemed to finally surrender beneath his firm grip. Arthur shut his eyes; this was too much, he couldn't last any longer.

"I'm gonna…

The pace became irregular, and soon his penis released flows of warm come inside the man, filling him and making some of it pour out and spill on his inner thigh. His eyes were still closed, his mouth wide open in a long, rough groan.

"Ahnn.. F-fuck…" he gasped as the orgasm made his legs tremble, the sweat on his forehead run down his cheek and throat.

Eyes opening wide, mouth gaping with his tongue leaving long strings of saliva on his own chest and chin, he felt the man's hot semen spraying into him, those hands grabbing his waist and pinching the tender skin... His self control was at its limit: all the pressure that had built up, he discharged with a moan all over the cushions. Yao fell onto his elbows, unable to hold himself up any longer with all the energy he'd consumed in the act... His body, coated in a smell of sex and sweat, went soft as he listened to the Briton's lustful sighs.

"S-so... Arthur, this round goes... Goes to m-me, eh?" he voiced smiling slightly, still panting into the sofa.

The Briton slowly opened his eyes, as the last waves of pleasure left his body. His legs couldn't hold him anymore, and when Yao went down on his elbows, won by the force of his climax, all he could do was lean forward and lay on the man's back, sharing the sweat that made the contact slick. His breath was shaky, and so was the rest of his body. When the man spoke, he merely frowned a little.

"Sh-shut up.." He was too tired and too drunk to complain. He pulled out and, upon making this small effort, collapsed on the sofa, right at the other man's side. His half-open eyes observed the Chinese man.

Their argument didn't hold very long though, just enough so that Arthur could state a feeble "Next time…", and doze off due to the exhaustion and the alcohol, unable to finish his sentence.

He chuckled softly against the cushions, turning his gaze to the drunk, now asleep, man beside him. In spite of his entire backside hurting from the deep penetration, he stood up shakily from the sofa and watched the man contentedly.

"My silly, foolish, little Artie..."

Yao brushed the man's dishevelled hair from his eyes, lovingly cleaning away a bit of the sweat that rolled down his forehead.

"You have no idea of how many times I've dreamt of doing this... Even if you are just drunk." Sighing, feeling a bit disheartened, he leaned down and lay next to the Englishman, kissing his lips restlessly, perhaps trying to draw out love instead of plain lust...

"I love you much more than you think, you... You wonderful bastard..,"

Eventually he drew back, took a sheet to cover them both, and just watched the other man longingly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2.**

The sun shone through the curtains, gleaming brightly on his face. Unwelcome heat and blurred brilliance flooded his senses, waking him; unlike most other mornings, this one didn't begin with a kick-start. Yao's eyes fluttered open lazily, not ready to face yet another day, which was sure to be full of surprises as usual. Just as he was about to sit up with a vexed groan, he was dreadfully reminded of the past night's events by the pain and increased width he could feel at his entrance and... The awkward sloshing he heard when he turned from side to side. He cringed, wrinkling his nose.

_Oh shit, forgot to clean THAT..._

Finally managing to clench his ass, so that none more of the liquid would leak, he stood up and stretched his back, taking his time to flex the taut muscles. A soft smile had crept onto his lips as he turned and watched the Briton still snoozing peacefully, unhindered in his rest.

And then, one thought collided head on with his briefly-lived happiness.

"Ohfuckingdumplings, what am I to do?!"

He clamped his mouth, realizing he'd shouted. He hadn't dressed the man: possibly the worst mistake of his life. Now sweating nervously, Yao hurried off to the shower, mumbling away to himself and deciding he'd take care of one mess at a time.

"Oh this is bad, I don't know how he'll take it if he wakes up... Damn all this.."

Just as the Chinese man had his own problems to tend to, so did the Brit squirming uncomfortably in the sheets, who appeared to be regaining some kind of consciousness.

All around Arthur was suddenly hot, _very_ hot. Dark clouds of smoke surrounded his view, making it difficult to perceive clearly where he was.

He was laying somewhere, and the ground seemed to melt beneath his skin. He tried to stand up, but his body just wouldn't respond to his commands. The Englishman looked up and… Was that... A volcano? What the hell?! Then he heard somebody's voice. Wait, did that mean that the volcano was actually talking? Yeah, it was… It said something about dumplings… What.

_What the fuck is going on here.. Agh!_

A deadly shock of pain coursed through his spine, shooting up to his brain, making him crumble to his knees and lift his hands to hold his temples. Arthur shut his eyes, waiting for the torment to end. When he opened them, the light that pierced his pupils made him regret his action immediately; it may have been a dream, but the headache was certainly real.

_Goddamn hangover. What the… Oh God._

He sat up, clutching his head in his hands, and looked around himself, only to find that he was alone in the room. Questions, so many bloody questions asked and left unanswered. The place felt terribly familiar, although he just couldn't put his finger on it… Leaving that to later thought, another query came to mind: why was he completely naked and laying on a couch in someone's house? Moreover, he didn't even know what had happened the night before, nor what could've led to this; simply _fantastic_. Well, considering his pitiful situation, it really wasn't such a bad thing.

Meanwhile, Yao quickly stripped, carelessly leaving his boxers on the bathroom floor, then jumped into the shower to cleanse himself. Taking care of certain things after sex was never pleasant, no matter how good it had been, and goddammit had this been spectacular...!

_Drunk or not, the erotic ambassador sure knows how to..._ Yao slapped himself mentally and immediately got to work. Stretching himself out once again to let all of the Briton's come out, he groaned loudly at the horrifying feeling of the lukewarm, gooey liquid running down his leg.

"Nngh.. God, Arthur, how long have you held back...?"

As the last drops slipped out, he retracted his fingers and washed the rest of himself thoroughly, wondering how long it would take before he could walk normally again.

_Idiotic Englishman, I hope YOU get to fucking bottom next time..._

His mind wandered as his gaze did; the jet of hot water above his head sent little, transparent droplets flying down at him, which drenched his pale skin. The heated humidity made it a bit hard to breathe inside the shower, it felt like he was suffocating in the feverish temperature he was enclosed in.

_His back arched, his eyes opened wide along with his mouth in a loud moan—Arthur's body was too close to his own, it was too damn hot. Those lips traced his inner thigh, sending flashes of arousal into his cock, and breathy moans came soon after, though he didn't know who'd voiced them. He was burning, his skin blazed, an inferno raged._

How many time's he'd imagined these scenes, Yao couldn't even fathom, and for one night he'd managed to have the Briton all to himself. Good, so damn good…

And obviously, moments later, after having opened his eyes and cast a glance at the water swirling down the drain, he noticed was erect. Sighing in desperation, he started fondling himself, unaware of how loud his moans really were.

Hands clasping the sides of his head, almost tearing out strands of blond hair, Arthur ranted to himself, unable to remember anything. How much did he drink?!

"Never again, I swear…"

Yeah, he'd said so last time, the time before that, and… Never mind. The more worrying fact was that he'd slept with somebody, if the dirty couch, the dozens of beer bottles all over the floor and his own clothes strewn on the sheets that barely covered his crotch meant anything at all. And clearly he hadn't bottomed, or his ass would've been a complete mess. N-not that he knew that by experience or anything, absolutely not!

Now the biggest question remaining was: with whom did he have the pleasure to shag? Ah, fuck it. He couldn't think straight since his head hurt too much.

Only one thought appeared in his foggy mind.

_I need to piss._

He got up, legs still weak, stumbling quite a couple of times. When he reached the hallway, Arthur realized that he had no idea of where he was going, but then the sound of running water hit his ears and without a moment's hesitation, he went straight for the door where the noise was coming from. Arthur opened it fiercely and ran to the water closet, sighing in relief as his bladder emptied. Suddenly, as the Englishman took in the fact that he'd been led to this room for one specific reason, he looked over at the shower and saw the figure inside it: he could distinguish long, dark hair, which was enough to send him collapsing onto the toilet seat.

Knees feeling weak as the water pelted his bare skin and stimulated his frayed nerves, Yao leaned panting against the cold, tiled shower wall. His imagination ran wild, with the fresh, vivid and unrestrained memories of the past night tainting his thoughts relentlessly.

Getting off now wouldn't feel anywhere as good as the earlier climax, but he could only imagine it did while his hands became poor substitutes for Arthur's penetration and soft touches.

"Nngh, Arthur... Oh, fuck, so thick... Go in, I'll be your bitch..."

Spit dripped down his jaw as his fingers' attention was divided: the right hand went to pump his shaft slow and hard, the left went to poke into his entrance, quickly gaining access since it'd been opened so roughly just a few hours ago. Uncontrollably moaning the Briton's name, he rocked back onto his own fingers, taking them in further and trying to touch his sweet spot; a feather light caress over his prostate was enough to send him over the edge.

He nearly swooned when the release left his body.

Wet hair splattered onto his forehead and stuck uncomfortably to his neck, Yao slumped against the damp wall. Closing his eyes and mechanically turning off the water, then opening the shower box, he stood shell-shocked (and stark naked) in front of the Englishman who still sat on the toilet.

"..."

Awkward, dead silence. Blood pounding in Yao's ears. This time, he really did faint.

Arthur stared at the man who keeled over in front of him, not really knowing what to do. He blinked a few times, his massive eyebrows furrowing into a miffed expression. Trying to put all the pieces back together, the memories of the previous night hit him like a stab in a bleeding wound.

_Shit._

He stood up, not averting his gaze from Yao, deciding that it was best not to leave him on the floor like that.

The Brit took a large, creamy white towel and began wrapping the other man in it, until a shade of bright pink stained his cheeks. Jesus, this was embarrassing.

So soon as he finished, one arm went to the Chinese's back, the other under his knees, and he lifted him easily, finding Yao surprisingly light. He headed for the door and dashed headlong into the long hallway, looking for the man's bedroom.

"Bollocks! Where the bleeding hell am I supposed to go?!"

Once he finally found it, he went straight to the bed, placing the man in his arms on it gently, and observed him for a few moments. The slim form of his white body lay peacefully on the mattress, it really looked like he was knocked out. His eyes skimmed those slim, birdlike legs, and when they stopped at his hips, the sight of his own hands gripping them tight appeared suddenly in his mind, making him flush and look away. He coughed, trying to hide his growing arousal.

"Need to... Uh... Find some water." he said, swiftly walking back to the door, not sure whether he needed it for the man or himself.


End file.
